What were you thinking?

This week's blog might not excite and delight you as much as my usual dazzling array of tantalising tunes. My pre-Mancunian derby nerves has brought out the negative in me so I'm choosing five tracks I loathe by artists I love. I could of course make this easy and choose middling bands who I can take or leave, or dip into the catalogue or once great bands on the slide (yes I mean you Rivers Cuomo). Each track is by an artist released at the peak of their powers which contrasts sharply with the rest of their brilliance.

Bugger I may have set myself a very tough task. Time to get myself a brew and put the thinking cap on.

All Around the World by Oasis
It seems prescient to choose the famous Citeh fans as my first victims. Oasis were the band that made me want to learn guitar. Thankfully they also ensured that all their songs were simple enough for a clumsy teenager to learn and for that I will always be grateful to Noel. My sister and I collected everything they ever released (including imports) and I have spent many a duel with keyboard warriors defending their output. That most certainly extends to Be Here Now which was the victim of absurd revisionism when lazy journalists went from hailing it a masterpiece (which is isn't) to a catastrophe (which again, it isn't) inside of about a year. The album was made at their commercial peak and featured some truly brilliant tracks - Don't Go Away, D'yer Know What I mean? and the Girl in the Dirty Shirt. This abomination though is lazy Beatles parody at its worst - and not even good Beatles (more of that later). Everything about it sounds tired and laboured and one can only presume Noel dusted it off to finish the album asap so he could go and snort some more of his fortune.



Yellow Submarine by The Beatles
The track that killed the dream of the perfect album. If Revolver was a steak it would be lean, moist, juicy, succulent, with one unpleasant knot of fat so frustratingly placed that it threatens to ruin the whole gastronomic experience. Yellow Submarine is that fat. It isn't the worst song ever performed by the band - Hey Jude on repeat is my musical room 101 - but it is undoubtedly the most bewildering insert to an LP tracklisting I have ever known. Maybe Lennon, McCartney and Harrison didn't want to leave themselves with nowhere to go? Maybe Lennon wanted to see what he could get away given the manic adulation they received? Surely anyone else proposing a drug addled, children's nursery rhyme sung by the drummer would be told to forget it?  I have no idea, but what I do know is this song is wretched.



Whatz Ya Phone Number? - Tupac Shakur
'Does a bear shit in the woods and wipe his ass with a rabbit?' This track has long threatened to cross the line into 'so bad it's good' territory. I wouldn't suggest for a moment that All Eyez On Me is one of the great albums but it was made by Tupac at his commercial peak; Cali love, I aint mad atcha, Heartz of Men, Life Goes On, and All Bout U are superb singles. The problem with the album - like many of the era - is how hideously bloated it is which allows room for this slice of dire, dire music. The track literally consists of Tupac 'sexy talking' on the phone for five minutes. For a man capable of poetry in his more reflective moments the lyrics are sub-viz and in many ways reflect all that is wrong with misogynistic, production line, commercial rap music.



You were Always on my Mind by Ryan Adams
It would be very hypocritical of me to save the golden boy from criticism so here it is - a Ryan Adams cover which is completely unnecessary and achieves the ignominy of bringing a brilliant album to a close on whimper. The intro is promising, building the expectation that this is going to be great and it just... well isn't. Don't get me wrong, this is a superb song. Elvis brings gravitas in the way that only he could, Pet Shop Boys gave their own unique twist and I even have a soft spot for the Willie Nelson version; so why did Adams decide to tag on his own lukewarm effort? I have no idea and given the amount of chemicals in his blood stream at the time I suspect he couldn't offer an explanation either.



Isn't She Lovely by Stevie Wonder
Praise be that my Dad has no idea about this blog else I suspect I would be in for a dose of his version of  the 'hairdryer treatment.' Wonder was a God in my house growing up and rightly so - Innervisions is a contender for my favourite album of all time. However this song does my head in. The sentiment is commendable, the tune is jaunty and enjoyable and it features Stevie's harmonica skills which can never be a bad thing. So why do I loathe it? It goes on, and on, and on, and on, ad infitum. It marks the moment in Songs in the Key of Life where 'less is more' is decisively thrown out the window. Sadly too much of side two is overblown and borderline over-indulgent. Do I need to hear the baby being born? No. Do I need to listen to bath time whilst the same relentlessly upbeat melody drones on? Definitely not. If you try and slog through the entire song your love of Wonder diminishes to such an extent that you would gladly shove that harmonica down his gullet if it would just make him please, please, stop!

Middle class white boy discusses music from da streetz

First blog in a little while and I'm going to keep on with the Five choices format. Today's choice reveals me as a massive cliché but so be it.

Hip Hop

I'm well aware that arguments continue to rage over whether a distinction exists between rap music and hip hop music. For the purposes of this blog there isn't - as you will notice from my choice I am far from a purist in this area and will happily embrace the mainstream when the results are good. I won't divert to a tangent but quite honestly I haven't heard a genuinely exciting mainstream hiphop album for as long as I can remember. Not even the return of Jay-Z has challenged my view that the genre is in a rut as despite good moments even the 'greatest of all time' has failed to recapture the brilliance of times gone by. In light of this my choices may appear a little dated and undoubtedly reflect a time when hip hop was far more prominent in my musical consciousness than it has been in recent years.

Fu Gee La by The Fugees
This is where it all began for me. A football mad, Oasis obsessed early teen sat down to watch a basketball show and was blown away when NBA 24/7 spent five minutes focusing on a trio of rappers who were making waves in the states. The track they focussed on was Fu Gee La and I was immediately hooked. I remember chatting excitedly at school to my good friend Joe who had long since embraced the hip hop/basketball culture and was good enough to humour me as I rambled on about my 'discovery.' Everything about this song is exciting - the subdued intro crashed into by Wyclef demanding attention, the simple yet hypnotic hook, the complimentary yet dramatically different lyrical delivery and of course THAT chorus which once in the brain never lets go. The crucial element of any rap song is the lyrics and it was the subject matter that most excited this thirteen year old British white boy from a northern backwater. It is safe to say that Brit pop tales of Mancunia or Essex surburbia never included lyrics like 'Stevie Wonder sees crack babies becoming enemies of their own families.' The confirmation that this discovery was going to have a huge impact on musical palette was my Dad's furious reaction when I put The Score on in his car. I am proud to have inherited my Dad's musical taste and was fortunate to have a musical upbringing of Stevie Wonder, Jimmy Hendrix and Led Zeppelin. Despite this though every teenager is keen to find their own identity and distinguish themselves from their parents - Lauren, Pras and Wyclef had shown me the way.


Brenda's got a Baby by Tupac Shakur
As any self respecting teen rap fan it was natural to gravitate towards the big two - Biggie and Tupac. Many a dull technology lesson was spent debating the conspiracy theories that 2pac was definitely alive and I even pathetically dismissed Biggie for many years due to my allegiance to the West side. I'm sure it was of great comfort to Suge Knight locked up in prison to know that the Kendal mafia had his back. It might be frowned upon today but I have great affection for Tupac and feel that unlike many of his contemporaries he was a true superstar. The brilliance of Tupac was how comfortable he was in producing party jams like California Love whilst at the same time writing personal, socially reflective odes like Dear Mama. My choice is one from the latter group, a brilliantly composed narrative tale of a young girl's struggle which is genuinely reminiscent of the masterful Village Ghetto Land by Stevie Wonder.


Break Ups 2 Make Ups by Method Man feat. D'Angelo
I've got a bit of a confession - I've never been that big a fan of Wu Tang. Don't get me wrong I still listen to Enter the Wu and when on form they could be magnificent but I always tended to find their solo projects to be more interesting. Arguably the most commercially successful has been Method Man and although far from the greatest lyricist I have always been an admirer of his flow. He has a delivery which never fails to make a connection with the subject he is focusing on. It is no surprise he is often in demand for guest raps as he has lifted many an otherwise forgettable track (Got My Mind Made Up with 2pac springs to mind). The track I've chosen is a laid back collaboration with D'Angelo which really shows off his talents. Enjoy.


Oh No by Mos Def feat. Pharoah Monche and Nate Dogg
Three of my favourite artists collaborating on one track was always going to end well and this is a classic slice of Rawkus records at their finest. This was featured on the second volume of Lyricists Lounge and was the pick of a very fine bunch. Special plaudits have to go to Pharaoh Monche who lifts a good track to greatness with a quite brilliant verse. So much of rap is polluted with lame verses about how great the rapper is but when PM takes this approach so sharp is his flow and lyrical composition that you can't argue with his claims that he's untouchable.


What more can I say? by Jay-Z/The Beatles produced by Danger Mouse
If you are unfamiliar with The Grey Album by Danger Mouse I urge you to do something about it. In a way this album is a fitting example of how my love of hip hop has developed as a few years ago the idea of splicing Jay-Z with Lennon & McCartney would inspire outrage and cries of sacrilege. I am an unashamed admirer of Danger Mouse and he doesn't disappoint as his love and respect for both artists shines through. I'd go as far as to say this is one of the finest albums of the last decade and I've chosen this track as it beautifully uses one of my favourite ever Beatles songs to make Shaun Carter sound better than I thought possible.

That's your lot, please comment whether praise or criticism.